A Renaissance Man
by bibliotech
Summary: Rodney's not exactly what we think he is. Kinda. Not really.


"The thing is," Katie says, her eyes wide and full of sincerity, "most people here just don't _understand_ him. They don't know the real Rodney McKay." 

Laura nodded, biting her lip to keep from losing it right then and there. "And you're figuring him out, then?"

"Oh, no!" Katie's face was flushed, and she kept wringing her hands. "He's not just someone you could figure out--not really. He's..." She trailed off into a wistful sigh. "He's a very complex and interesting individual."

"Actually, um--I had the opportunity to get to know him pretty well? And Rodney? He's really not all that complex."

"You just haven't had the chance to see beneath the surface," Katie said firmly. Laura decided to just leave it at that.

* * *

"We're talking about Rodney McKay here?" Parrish gave her a doubtful look, moving a tray of seeds to an upper shelf. "Rodney McKay? Bad temper, Canadian, loves coffee above all things?"

"He acts like that because he's _shy_." Katie's voice implied that this was obvious to everyone, and somehow Parrish had missed the memo.

"So, he's loud, overbearing and annoying...because he's shy."

She crossed her arms, glaring at his back. "Obviously."

Parrish coughed. "Obviously. How could I miss that?"

* * *

"I almost feel sorry for her," Laura said, propping her feet up on Carson's desk.

Carson tugged a sheet of paper from beneath her boots. "Rodney's not _that_ bad." He paused. "Well, most of the time he's not."

"No, not that--okay, maybe that, but mostly because she thinks that deep down, he's a sensitive, innocent man that just needs the right woman to bring all that out."

Carson's eyes widened. "Rodney? _Our_ Rodney?" He sighed, shaking his head. "That poor, poor girl. This can only end badly."

* * *

"So, she thinks that she can--well, fix him, I suppose."

John shrugged, poking idly at his mashed potatoes with a fork. "There's nothing wrong with him." He held up a hand, adding, "Nothing that we're not already used to, and haven't learned to accept."

"Well, you know how women are," Carson said. "They're never happy with a fellow the way he is--they're always trying to make improvements."

"Maybe if they did not need improvements in the first place, women would not be tempted to try and speed up the process," Teyla said sweetly, propping her elbows on the table and giving Carson a Look.

"I always thought McKay was a pain in the ass because he liked being a pain in the ass," Ronon said thoughtfully. "That's a good enough reason, isn't it?"

* * *

"She thinks I'm _what_?"

John rocked back and forth on his heels, giving Rodney his best _I have no idea, I just happened to be here_ look. He couldn't have worked this out any better if he'd planned it himself.

"I'm--wait a minute, let me try and process this--I'm _shy_?" Rodney was leaving disbelief and heading straight into offended outrage. "What does she think I am, a fourteen year old girl? I am not, nor have I ever been, _shy_. It's like she took 'Stereotypical Canadian 101' and just pasted my name at the top." He stopped pacing, turning to point at John. "Do you think I've been too nice? Maybe this means I'm slacking off. Do you think I'm slacking off? Productivity could be on the start of a decline, and I would've never seen it coming."

John made a face. "No one is accusing you of being too nice. No one would _ever_ accuse you of being too nice. You know how women are. They like their guys to come off as...I don't know, sensitive poet-type...types."

Rodney gave him a blank look. "I hate poetry, I refuse to grow my hair long and there is no way in _hell_ anyone's going to convince me to wear one of those shirts with ruffled collars."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this sensitivity thing," John said suspiciously.

"Are you implying that I'm sensitive?"

"No, I'm implying that you're _gay_."

"Oh. Well. That's--somewhat better."

* * *

John wasn't actually hovering outside Rodney's office. He just happened to be stopping by, and yes, maybe he'd just happened to notice that Katie was on her way in, clutching a book, and just _maybe_ he'd seen the words "Inner Child" somewhere on the cover, and maybe, just _maybe_ he'd stopped for awhile to tie his shoes. And then re-tie them again, just for good measure.

He was rewarded with a loud crash, and then Katie's abrupt departure from Rodney's office--minus one book.

John stuck his head around the corner. "Is it safe to come in?"

Rodney was in a chair, staring at the floor in disbelief. "I'm not exactly sure what just happened here," he finally said.

"I'm guessing you weren't as sensitive as she thought you were," John said.

"She threw a _book_ at me," Rodney said in awe. "I didn't know she could _do_ that."

John raised a brow. "They all do that."

Rodney shook his head. "What exactly is a drumming circle? And why would I want to drum in a circle?"

John patted his shoulder. "Let's go get drunk and play cards and watch movies where things blow up. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Pulling Rodney to his feet, he gave him a not-so-gentle shove toward the door.

"And what does 'burning man' mean?" Rodney's eyes widened. "She's going to set my office on fire, isn't she?"

"Probably," John said cheerfully, turning off the light.


End file.
